


Good Men

by Theoroark



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 20:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17107463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Genji's last night at Blackwatch, spent with McCree.





	Good Men

Genji had started sleeping in McCree’s bed fairly early on. Started even when he was still barely talking to anyone. They had been flying back from a mission, Genji had fallen asleep. Then he had started twitching almost violently, making noises bordering on sobs. McCree had moved closer to him and wrapped his arm around him and Reyes had looked away and Genji had quieted. When he woke, he had stared at McCree but not said anything, as was his wont. But a couple days later, he had knocked on the door to McCree’s quarters in the middle of the night, and when McCree opened it, he had silently slipped past him and gotten into his bed.

 

Genji had come many times after that. He talked to him, now. And that night he said to McCree, “I’m leaving Overwatch.”

 

McCree nodded, his chin butting against Genji’s hard metal helm. Back when they first started to do this, Genji’s body was a hodge podge of Angela’s emergency stabilizing design, and Moira’s weaponization. The top of his head was uncovered then, and McCree would run his fingers through his black hair, still growing back in. Angela had convinced Reyes to let her make adjustments to Genji’s body. And probably, McCree thought, that had really been a case of Angela convincing Reyes to force Moira to let Angela fix her shoddy work. But in any case, Genji had a new body now, sleek and silver and much more comfortable than his old one. McCree would not trade Genji’s comfort for the world.

 

But he did sometimes miss running his fingers through his hair.

 

“I have to,” Genji said. Like it was a thing he needed to make an excuse for, like McCree would hold it against him. “I don’t like what we’re becoming. And it just feels… wrong. I’ve gotten a second chance to live. And spending it doing this…”

 

McCree nodded again. Genji didn’t need to make any excuses. McCree didn’t hold it against him. McCree should have seen this coming, would have seen this coming in someone he didn’t want to pretend with so badly. Genji had never been particularly concerned about the subterfuge and bloodshed that came with Blackwatch missions. McCree hadn’t been, either. For the longest time, what Reyes had him doing had always been kinder and more fulfilling than the cheap robberies and murders he had done with Deadlock. And Genji did not admit it, but McCree saw how focused he became during debriefs, how his Holovid was frequently left open to news articles chronicling fluctuations in tensions between humans and Omnics. Genji cared. McCree cared. But lately missions did not make sense, commands did not make sense, the blood they spilled did not make sense. And McCree was left constantly wondering whether or not Reyes cared any more.

 

“I already told Angela,” Genji said. “She said I’ll be fine on my own from now on, that if something happens like dirt getting in my joints or a component malfunctioning, any Omnician should be able to take care of it. She showed me some ways I could do basic maintenance myself, too.” McCree remembered Angela’s hastily canceled lunch with him earlier in the day, and how she would reproach him to be honest with Genji about how he felt. Angie had never been any good at lying, he thought.

 

He remembered the early days, when Genji stood up from his bed and screamed in the middle of the med bay because there was a grain of sand in his elbow and he could not itch it, and the itch would not go away. And McCree going to Angie and her giving him soft brushes and fine tweezers. And Genji practically running to his room after missions and McCree following, going as fast as he could but still far too slow. Kneeling down and detailing every inch of Genji’s armor, piece by piece, taking out all the grit and grime and washing away blood with a special cleaning fluid Angie had made for him.

 

He remembered exes where he would kiss every inch of their bodies, and he wanted to laugh at how he had called that worship.

 

Genji was quiet now. He was watching him. Angela had taken the ridiculous LED lights Moira had put in out of his eyes. Moira said they gave him superhuman vision. Genji said they hurt him when he was trying to fall asleep. Angie could lie to him from now until the day he died, McCree could never be angry at her.

 

Genji was waiting for McCree to respond. McCree wanted to respond. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say. He had been in awful situations before, ones that were unequivocally awful, not ones that were frankly, for the best, and only painful because McCree was a selfish son of a bitch. McCree could think of ways to respond that would leave Genji comforted and satisfied.

 

The issue was, as badly as he wanted to respond, he wanted to kiss him so much more. Had wanted so badly to kiss him, for how long he didn’t know. He had already had to pitch his hips away from him countless nights, woken up paranoid that he had said something in his sleep that had given him away. But now, as Genji had a foot out the door, it felt like a fever about to break. 

 

But he couldn’t do it, not now, especially not now. Not when Genji was doing something that was good for him, that McCree didn’t have the courage to do. Not when a kiss would say, “Please stay with me,” and what McCree wanted to say was,

 

“You’re going to be happy out there.” Genji nodded and blinked. McCree had to look away, because he couldn’t start crying, he wouldn’t start crying.

 

“Will you be okay?” Genji asked. “On your own?” And that surprised McCree. It wasn’t that Genji was selfish. Or maybe he was, but he was selfish in that way that people were when their problems rose up to their neck, and they had to spend all their energy fighting themselves. And so McCree had operated around Genji with the knowledge that this was not a man who had energy for much other than keeping himself alive. It would be hard for a person not to be selfish in those circumstances, and McCree did not want to make life any harder for Genji. 

 

(And that, probably, was also more than a little of why McCree was terrified of kissing him.)

 

“I’ll be fine,” he told Genji. Genji did not look convinced, so he forced a smile. “Come on, now. Reyes and I can squabble all we like, but– how’d you put it, that time we ruined a stakeout, trying to cut fruit in the air with your sword? ‘He’d never really punish his golden boy’?”

 

Genji snorted. “Glad you finally admit it,” he said, and McCree laughed and stroked the back of his head. Genji tilted his head back, though, and looked him in the eye. “You’ll stay in touch with me, won’t you?” 

 

That was some of Genji’s old selfishness, there, that old desire to keep everything, his terror of letting go. And McCree was a selfish son of a bitch himself, and so he could not tell if he was more gratified by Genji’s concern or his possessiveness.

 

“Course I will,” McCree told him, and smiled a little when Genji’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Course, that means you’ll actually have to answer your Holovid, ‘stead of just leaving me on read, every now and then.”

 

Genji laughed. “I’ll try.”

 

“That’s all I can ask,” McCree said, and Genji did not need to know how much more he wanted to ask. He parsed through his questions carefully and, finding one that was not a demand, said, “What’re you going to do, when you get out there?”

 

“I don’t know,” Genji said. “I liked what… I liked some of what we did here. I liked making a difference, I liked working for something bigger than myself and my family. And I think that’s why I was given this chance. So I want to try to do that again.”

 

McCree weighed his options once more, because he did not want to argue with Genji on this, but he had also seen too much senseless killing in his life to believe that anything happened for a reason, and did not want Genji to build his life in guilty debt to something that did not exist. “You were brought back by Angela,” he said finally. “And I think she wants you to be happy, above all else.”

 

“I think that’s what makes me happy,” Genji said, and that made McCree happy. He smiled and Genji smiled back, a little nervously. “I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it, though. Blackwatch was able to make such a… significant, impression on the world, because it has so much resources. I won’t have that, on my own.”

 

“You’ll be you, though,” McCree said. “You’re strong and you’re clever and you’re… you’re just good, Genji. You’re a good man and you got there the hard way. And so maybe you won’t topple dictators or end wars or whatever the hell but you– you’ll be good. And that’s enough.”

 

Genji blinked rapidly and McCree was horrified to see that he was crying, he knew the tears would drip into the armor on his jaw and dry out and the salt would niggle. He quickly wiped them away with his thumb and Genji sucked in a breath. “Thank you,” Genji said. “You’re good too, McCree.” 

 

McCree shook his head. “I’m still here.”

 

“Because you’re loyal,” Genji said. “Because you care about Reyes, about Angela, about me. You stay because you’re good.” He reached up and cupped McCree’s face, and Genji had such strong senses, he had to feel McCree’s pulse skyrocket. “You take care of me because you’re good. I want to become good enough to take care of you, too.”

 

McCree wanted to kiss him, so badly. Wanted to pin him to the bed and kiss every inch of the body Genji hated, wanted to kiss him until Genji loved himself as much as McCree loved him, wanted to kiss him like that would fix everything. But it would not, and McCree tried to be a good man, despite all he had done. And so he settled for kissing the top of Genji’s head, the metal plate that hid his hair, quickly and chastely. Genji did not say anything to that, he simply buried his face in McCree’s chest, the metal on his jaw catching on the soft cotton of his t shirt. McCree swallowed the lump in his throat and rested his chin on Genji’s head and held him, one more night.

**Author's Note:**

> For the amazing bloomcnidarians on tumblr/bloomingjellies on twitter– she is so, so talented, creative, kind, and thoughtful, please wish her a happy birthday and follow if you aren't already!
> 
> I'm @tacticalgrandma on twitter/tumblr if you want to follow me there.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments/kudos would mean the world to me!


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